


For you

by Moltenpurple



Series: For love [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Be Nice to Clint Barton, Caning, Clint is stupid, Comfort, Consent is Sexy, Cuddles, Dirty Talk, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Kink Negotiation, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Making Out, Mentions of past abuse, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Pietro Maximoff Lives, Power Play, Praise Kink, Restraints, Safewords, Smut, mentions of triggers, non aou compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-10-28 21:30:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10839825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moltenpurple/pseuds/Moltenpurple
Summary: Pietro is being an annoying brat and Clint can't figure out why. And there's no way he's attracted to the kid anyway.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The majority of this chapter is the two generally pissing each other off. It ends with some BDSM-y dirty talk but no actual smut (not yet at least). I'll add more tags as I go.

The first time it happened was after they had returned from a recon mission in Austria.

Clint was heading back to his room for a much needed shower, rolling his shoulders to relieve the stiff muscles, fantasizing about hot water and soap. All of a sudden there was a tell-tale flash of blue and a rush of wind ahead of him which solidified into a lean runner's body with tousled hair and an aggravating smirk. The kid was lounging against the wall, examining his nails as if he had been there for hours, still wearing his ridiculously tight running gear and the special trainers Tony had made for him.

"Where you been, old man?" he asked with a grin, "I get lonely without you to play with. But first you take shower, yes? I can smell you from here."

Clint growled and shouldered his way past, completely not in the mood for Maximoff's bullshit right now. Perhaps he was a little rougher than intended but the kid was just so damn irritating and he was blocking the entire corridor. The archer definitely didn't feel a pounding in his chest as they made contact, though. And there definitely wasn't a split second's pressure on his backside before all that was left of the speedster was his mocking laugh.

*&*!@

The second time, he was actually in the shower. The gym in the Avengers' facility had wonderful showers, hot and powerful with plenty of space to stretch over-taxed muscles and cubical walls which kept out prying team-mates. Clint considered himself a connoisseur of showers after so many years of moving around, living rough and spying. Showering after training was one of the highlights of his day, his sacred alone time in the utter chaos of living with so many strong personalities.

So of course the damn Maximoff kid had to ruin it.

It was the singing that did it. The boy might have a lovely (definitely not sexy, though) voice, what with that thick accent and everything, but fuck his singing was awful. He was tunelessly wailing some terrible Russian song at the top of his lungs and completely ruining the tranquillity of Clint's shower.

"Oh for fuck sake, Pietro. Shut up already!" he yelled before he could stop himself. Cursing at having given the brat further ammunition to bug him with, Clint snapped off the water and threw his towel and his waist, intending to go and relax in one of his nests instead, before stepping out into the changing area.

Pietro was already there, cocky smile firmly in place and honest-to-goodness-stark-bollock-naked as he messily towel dried his hair in the middle of the communal changing room. Clint tried not to look too much, tried not to notice the single water droplet which was making it's way down Pietro's smooth chest and finding a track between his sculpted abs. The kid was looking him up and down, almost brazenly, as he stood confused and dripping outside the cubicle. Clint thought he felt himself blush slightly as icy blue eyes lingered on his arms, taking in the thick muscles that he _knew_ looked good after his workout before travelling across his pecs and then further down to where the towel was (thankfully) covering him.

"Is good, for an old man." the kid finally pronounced, raking his eyes back up Clint's body, "But the towel is... spoiling the view, I think you say?"

Yep, Clint was definitely blushing now. The heat from his face spread down his neck and he grabbed his clothes as quickly as he could with one hand still holding the towel. In no way was he pleased with the compliment, absolutely not. And he was almost 90% sure he couldn't feel eyes burning into the back of his shoulders as he left.

@!*&

The third time, he was on the archery range. Tony Stark might be an arrogant son-of-a-bitch but he could certainly put his tech skills to good use when he wanted to; the range was (Clint would never admit) pretty much perfect. The targets moved fluidly and completely at random in nearly a complete 360° around him as he sent arrow after arrow thudding into the centres, jumping from perch to perch and navigating obstacles which had been designed by Rogers to challenge his acrobatic skills and make him lose focus.

The obstacles were nothing on Pietro Maximoff, though. 

At first, Clint thought he had missed the target completely and swiftly lined up another shot. Which also missed. As did the third and the fourth. After the fifth arrow failed to connect he heard the laughter. The shape of the room made it echo around him, making it difficult to pinpoint the source of the noise. He briefly toyed with the switch on his quiver which would swap the blunt practice arrows he was using for an exploding one, a satisfied smile on his lips as he imagined the resulting explosion and solution to his problems. He could probably play it off to Cap as an accident, a momentary lapse with tragic consequences...

Sighing, he slotted his bow back into the rack and turned to leave. He only made it a few feet before the door was blocked by a certain Sokovian, currently pouting in a way that didn't at all call attention to his full, red lips.

"Why do you leave, archer? It is good game and I was enjoying playing with you."

"Fuck off, kid." Clint snarled as he tried to push past the smug brat into the hallway. "I don't wanna play your stupid game, I just wanna train in peace."

The lad looked genuinely crestfallen, more so than he should have done at losing the victim of his teasing. For a heartbeat, Clint felt bad for him but then brushed the feeling aside as he renewed his efforts to leave the range. Pietro didn't budge, planting his feet firmly and squaring his shoulders so that he was blocking the door.

"Please, Barton. I will not be a problem any longer. I only wanted to spend some time with you, I did not mean to anger you. I am... lonely. Before, I have always had Wanda but now she is busy always with this Vision and her training. I do not like to be alone."

Clint did feel bad then, picturing the little brat moping around the halls of the facility with nothing to occupy him. It wasn't like the other Avengers were deliberately ignoring the kid, they just all had their own projects they needed to be working on. Banner and Stark were closeted in the lab pretty much all the time, Rogers was in meetings or hunting for his psycho buddy, Thor was off being a prince or hunting for his psycho brother and Tash was... Well even he would admit that Natasha was intimidating. Without his sister to hang out with, Pietro had nobody.

"Alright, fine. But I'm not having you in there when I'm training, kid, we'll find something else to do. How does a movie grab you?"

&@*!

It turned out that Sokovian cinemas didn't get many films and even if they had, Pietro had only ever set foot in one once ("To watch the princess film, for Wanda.") Clint set about correcting the glaring gaps in his education straight away, introducing him to all of the action films in Tony's impressive library. It became their regular habit to curl up on the sofa with a huge bowl of popcorn most evenings, something else Pietro had never experienced, and watch what Clint regarded as the "classics" of the genre.

Nobody else ever seemed to want to join them, though. People would walk into the room and then suddenly remember somewhere else they needed to be, leaving the two men alone to watch in peace. It was nice, Clint decided. The lights would be off and Maximoff had started bringing a thick blanket to their viewing sessions, complaining that he got cold staying still for so long, which they would throw over the both of them while they watched in companionable silence.

Tonight, he had decided to introduce Pietro to The Lord of the Rings after the kid had asked yet again why Tony kept calling him Legolas. They had planned in for a night where they wouldn't have to get up early for training the next day and the plan was to watch all three films back to back, stopping only to get more beers or snacks. To that end they had stocked the fridge with bottles and what Pietro insisted on calling "ridiculous American foods", carefully labelled so that their team wouldn't decimate the stockpile before they got there.

Realising about half way through the first film exactly who Legolas was had caused Maximoff to clap his hands with excitement.

"I understand! This is a very good joke, for Tony Stark... He is very handsome, though not so handsome as you, Barton."

Clint blushed, feeling the bright blue eyes scanning his features and making the comparison. Carefully, he avoided making eye contact with his friend and managed to make an impatient gesture at the screen so that Pietro would hopefully get the hint and shut the hell up.

It worked for a bit but then he was back to rambling about the actors and Clint was seriously contemplating knocking the kid out so that he could escape. He was just about to do so when...

"That one, Aaragorn, he is also very handsome. He looks dangerous, like being with him would be risky. I think that he would be rough, yes? That he would like to hold down his boy." 

It was getting very warm under the blanket, Clint decided. Far too warm. It was ridiculous to have such a thick blanket in May anyway, he should probably move before his brain liquefied from over heating. The decision had nothing whatsoever to do with the way Pietro was looking up at him from under those long lashes with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Barton felt like he was watching somebody else have these thoughts, somebody else who was in complete control of his body and was using it to wriggle further under the blanket so that his leg was pressed along Pietro's toned thigh. Now the somebody else was lifting a hand to brush a lock of silvery hair back from the kid's face, tucking it tenderly behind an ear and trailing his fingers softly across a stubbled jaw line and down onto a pale neck.

Fuck it, he was going to hell anyway.

"He probably would want to hold them down, yes. Use those big hands to hold his boy down so he could do whatever he wanted to. It would have to be the right boy though, not just anyone would do."

Maximoff looked surprised but there was a pinkish tinge to his pale cheekbones and a feverish shine to his eyes. When he lifted his gaze to Clint's, the older man could see that the usual piercing blue stare had been pushed aside by his blown pupils. The bottom lip was still between his teeth and now it was starting to flush a deep red as Pietro bit down slightly harder. 

"The right boy?" He swallowed thickly before continuing, "What would make the right boy, you think?"

Clint smiled and raised a hand to trace the V at the base of Pietro's throat with a fingertip. "Someone obedient, a boy who could take orders. One who'd look really pretty tied up to the bed and who would say 'please' and 'thank you' like a good boy."

"Mmmm, yes, these things I think would make a good boy. Also one who will remember to call him 'Sir' and make good sounds for him?"

Well Clint was completely fucked now, "Oh yes, I think he would want to be called Sir. It sounds good when you say it." His voice was low and rough and the effect it had on Pietro was immediate, the younger man leaned into his touch and practically purred.

"What else do you think he would like to do to his boy, Sir?" 

The soft, slightly nervous edge to the speedster's voice went straight to Clint's dick, which had already been achingly hard from their discussion and now felt like he could use it to bore through steel plate. He turned his body so that he was facing Pietro with one leg casually up on the sofa between them and leaned back onto the plush arm behind. The kid looked really good, he had to admit, with his eyes wide and shiny and his bitten-red lips slightly parted as he waited for an answer. The tension in his body made the finely honed muscles of his arms and chest stand out and Clint could see his long pale fingers clenching at the blanket between them. Pretending to consider for a moment longer, Clint cocked his head to one side and gave Pietro an appraising look over which made the man practically melt.

"I think he would want to tie his boy's hands behind him and then put that pretty mouth to good use." he combed his fingers through the white blonde hair as he spoke, giving just a hint of a tug as he did so but not enough to hurt, "I think a good boy would know how to suck cock properly and would enjoy having his mouth fucked. I think he would want to hold his boy down and make him take every inch so that he could use those beautiful lips like they were made for." Clint was shocked at what he was saying but it was having the desired effect on Pietro, the kid was practically salivating as he listened and leaning forwards until he was practically in the archer's lap.

"What else, Sir? Would he want to hurt his boy?"

"He'd want to spank him, of course, leave beautiful red hand prints all over his boy's tight arse. And he would leave marks with his teeth so everyone would know that his boy belonged to him and only him. Bruises that would last for days."

Pietro was vibrating slightly in place, desire printed across every feature, "A good boy would say thank you, I think. He would be glad to be owned by a man like this, Sir."

Silently, Clint grabbed one of the hands fisted in the blanket and stood, pulling the younger to his feet. Wordlessly they left room, film forgotten, and headed up the hallway to Clint's bedroom, locking the door behind them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alone behind locked doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I'll write some proper BDSM soon but it would have felt sketchy with the set up so I decided to leave it for a bit until my boys can have a proper conversation about it.
> 
> I'm trying to improve my writing so any comments are very welcome.

As soon as the door had clicked shut behind them, Clint shoved the younger man roughly against the wood and pinned his wrists above his head with one strong hand. He pressed his body flush to the one before him and was gratified to feel the hammering of Pietro's heart against his chest as he slipped one knee between the kid's legs so that his erection pressed into Clint's thigh. Clint wasn't quite tall enough to make the runner stand on his tip toes so he improvised, lifting his thigh slightly so that the pressure on his cock made Pietro whine and stand up taller in response.

The archer began to attend to the smooth, white throat with his lips and teeth, biting and sucking at the flesh and drinking in the pretty little gasps his boy made as he marked the skin. He was buying himself time to think a little but that didn't mean he couldn't have fun whilst doing it. He knew they had both been drinking and were both half drunk with lust and, though the walk to his room had sobered him up a bit, neither were in a fit state to have a proper conversation about limits and safewords this evening. Deciding that he wasn't willing to risk rushing into something they might regret, he pulled away reluctantly and nearly passed out when he realised that Pietro was holding the stress position without being told to. God, they definitely needed to talk.

He walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge. "Come and sit down, Pietro. We should have a chat before we do anything else."

"Sir?" Pietro looked hurt, with a vulnerable cast to his mouth that did all sorts of things to Clint's insides, but began to walk towards the bed. "I have displeased you? You are angry with your boy now?" 

Clint looked at him in surprise and then opened his arms, wrapping the trembling young man in them and pulling him close. "Oh hell no, baby. I'm not angry, promise." He said softly and felt the tension melt away from Pietro until the kid was curled up against him with his head on his shoulder. He began to pet the messy silver hair as he spoke, "Of course I'm not angry, I just want to talk before we go any further is all. We're both too wound up to talk properly about what we like and what we don't like tonight. I don't want you to feel pressured into anything, baby, so I don't want to get into any scene stuff tonight. But we can still have some fun."

The speedster lifted his head and gave Clint a quizzical look, "This 'scene stuff' is hitting?" When Clint nodded in agreement, Pietro gave him a petulant look, "So you will not do the hitting because I want you to? This does not make sense, old man."

Clint gave a short, barking laugh and ruffled the kid's hair, making him wince and pull away, "Don't be like that kid, I'm trying to keep you safe and make sure we both have fun." He began to nuzzle at Pietro's neck again, "I promise, I can make you feel real good without hitting. All that stuff can come later." He could feel that Pietro was enjoying the attention to the sensitive skin of his throat and began to move his lips lower until they were stopped by the fabric of his tight running shirt. "You're gonna have to take this off though, baby, if you want me to show you." Barely had the words left his mouth and the Sokovian was sat beside him without the offending garment, eyes glinting and cheeks flushed.

Clint took a moment to admire his lover in a way that he hadn't felt able to do previously when Pietro was shirtless. The man in question smirked, "Like what you see, Barton?" and leaned back onto his elbows so that his sculpted torso was laid out in front of Clint like a buffet. Taking it as an invitation, Clint pressed him back into the mattress with a firm hand on his shoulder and then straddled Pietro's slim hips before returning to his exploration of the kid's neck. Pietro obviously approved, if the quiet gasps and hands grabbing at Clint's arse were anything to go by, so he started to move lower, nipping lightly at the flesh above Pietro's collar bone and then pausing to swirl his tongue around the small, hard nub of one of his nipples.

The response was electric, Pietro moaned aloud and arched his back off the bed, grasping at the sheets with his fingers. This was something Clint was definitely going to enjoy, he thought as he took the sensitive flesh between his teeth and bit down lightly while flicking his tongue over the tip. He brought a hand up to caress the other nipple and pinched gently with two fingers as Pietro writhed beneath him and cursed loudly in Russian. Making a mental note to see if he could get the kid off just by playing with his nipples another time, Clint continued his descent with his lips and tongue. The smooth, hairless plane of Pietro's stomach provided him with plenty of opportunity to bite and suck marks into pale skin and Clint took full advantage, leaving a trail of livid red marks behind him that were already beginning to fade under the onslaught of the kid's ridiculous metabolism.

When he reached the waistband of Pietro's joggers, Clint paused and looked up, seeking permission. His lover caught his eye and read his intent, pressing his hips up and moaning in response. Gently, Clint hooked his fingers into the elastic and eased the material down the speedster's legs, freeing his erection from the tight fabric. Pietro's cock was long, quite slim and the head was almost purple which contrasted beautifully with his pale skin. Pre-cum was leaking from to slit and starting to run down the shaft, following the path of the thick blue vein which ran along the underside to the tight growth of dark hair at the base. Unwilling to let it go to waste, Clint ran his tongue up the hard length, capturing the bead of fluid and then licking across the head to get the rest of it. 

Wrapping his lips around Pietro's shaft, Clint began to work his mouth up and down until it was slick with a mixture of spit and pre-cum. He cupped Pietro's balls with one hand and used the other to grasp the base of his cock, working it in tandem with his mouth and dragging the most gorgeous sounds from his boy. Pietro was panting and moaning in a mixture of English and Russian, his hands resting lightly on the back of Clint's head and fingers raking through his short hair. 

Clint hummed appreciatively as Pietro began to beg, pleading with him to let him cum, and quickened his pace. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked harder as he felt every muscle in Pietro's body tense, sending him crashing over the edge into his orgasm with a wild cry. The thick, salty liquid coated the inside of Clint's mouth and he stroked tenderly at the inside of his thighs, swallowing it eagerly before releasing the Sokovian's dick with an obscene pop and surging forward to kiss the open, gasping mouth.

"Oh fuck. Боr... пожалуйста, Clint. Please." Still barely able to get the words out, Pietro resorted to returning Clint's kiss with a fierceness that was almost bruising. His body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his hands were feverishly tugging at Clint's clothes whilst pulling them closer together, resulting in a tangled mess that had Clint lying on top of the younger man with his shirt half off. Finally, he broke away to finish undressing, resulting in a whine of disappointment from Pietro which was quickly replaced with a groan of lust as he removed his jeans and allowed his own aching cock to spring free. "пожалуйста, Sir. I need to feel you in me... Please fuck me, please." 

Clint chuckled, "Well since you asked so nicely..." He reached over to the bedside drawers and took out a small bottle of lube which he quickly uncapped and poured a generous amount into his hand. "Lie back, baby, need to open you up first." Pietro complied eagerly, spreading his legs to allow Clint easier access to his tight hole. The archer applied a decent quantity of the slippery liquid to the ring of muscle and began to massage it with the pad of one finger, drawing gasps and pleas to hurry from his partner. Eventually, he felt the kid relax slightly under him and pressed the finger inwards, revelling in the hot clenching around the digit. He gave Pietro a moment to adjust to the intrusion before slowly starting to move the finger in and out. With the unerring accuracy that had earned him his name, Hawkeye crooked his finger slightly so that every thrust brushed lightly over Pietro's prostate and made the man keen and wail with pleasure. Adding a second finger only increased the intensity of the younger man's pleasure and as Clint began to scissor his fingers to open up the tight channel further he was back to pleading in broken English.

"Soon, darling," Clint crooned as his third finger breached the tight opening and caused a torrent of Russian swearing, "you're being such a good boy for me, letting me open you up all nice and ready for my cock."

The praise made Pietro's dick jump (a fact that Clint added to his list of things to try out layer) and he was desperately trying to thrust downwards to fuck himself on Clint's fingers. "Please Sir, I need you... Please, just fuck me." Clint chuckled at his impatience but, finally feeling that the young man was ready, reached for the foil square of the condom and slicked his length with a generous amount of the lube. He withdrew his fingers and Pietro's whine of displeasure was quickly cut off when he replaced them with the head of his cock, not thrusting in just yet but teasing the entrance.

"Look at me, baby. Wanna see your eyes." The look that Pietro gave him was wide-eyed and wondering and he fought to hold it as Clint began to push forward, keeping the pace slow so as not to hurt his boy. Finally, he was fully seated inside the warm, tight channel of Pietro's arse and the feeling was better than he could possibly have imagined. It took all of his willpower to hold still until Pietro nodded and then he started rolling his hips at a leisurely pace, the movement bringing him into contact with the bundle of nerves which made the speedster howl and arch up into him. He kept the steady rhythm going, lowering his torso so that he was pressed against Pietro's chest and able to return to biting and licking at his neck, feeling the vibration of his vocal chords as the kid groaned aloud and repeated his name over and over. He could feel fingernails digging into the muscles of his shoulders, raking over his flesh and urging him on as he switched to pulling all the way out and then slamming back into the delicious heat.

All inhibitions gone, he began to pant and moan as he felt the sensation building inside him. "Oh God, you feel so good, baby. Such a good boy, taking all of my cock with your greedy hole.... I'm gonna make you mine, tie you down and fuck you until that pretty hole is dripping with my cum."

"Yes Sir, your boy to fuck. Please. Want your cum in me, I will be such a good boy for you. пожалуйста... May I cum, Sir? I need to... Ngh." Pietro was barely coherent as Clint reached a hand between them and began stroking the runner's leaking cock in time with his thrusts. His hips were stuttering now, all rhythm lost as he reached the crest of the wave and he bit down hard on the pale skin of his lover's shoulder as he crashed over the edge. With a desperate wail Pietro came for the second time, muscles clenching around Clint and milking the hot seed from his cock until they both collapsed on the bed, spent.

Carefully rolling to one side, Clint removed the condom and quickly disposed of it before gathering the younger man into his arms and holding him tightly, chin resting on the top of his head. 

"I can stay here?" Came a small voice, "I do not wish to be alone." Clint rubbed soothing circles into Pietro's back and kissed the top of his head.

"You stay as long as you like, baby. Get some sleep and I'll be here when you wake up."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time that Clint and Pietro talked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some kink negotiations before I get to the fun part.
> 
> Warning - mentions of past abuse and triggers, don't read if those things will be a bad experience for you. You could probably skip over this chapter to the smut if needed.

About a week had passed since Clint had finally given in and taken the annoying Sokovian to bed. Truth be told, he was finding Pietro less and less annoying each day, starting to laugh at his daft pranks and sarcastic comments rather than feeling them get under his skin like they used to. He was also starting to see that a lot of the kid's behaviour was a front which protected him from having to admit that he was scared and lonely.

They hadn't had sex since their movie night but there were a lot of significant glances between the two of them and flirty little touches that made Clint's heart race. Being around ropes (a surprisingly regular feature of his workday) was becoming something of a problem for him as well, they sent his mind to dirty places and he wanted to make sure he'd had a chat with the kid before he got too invested in the fantasy of what else ropes might be good for.

The opportunity presented itself on the Saturday afternoon. The complex was pretty much deserted apart from Clint and Pietro; Wanda had dragged a long-suffering Vision out shopping, Natasha was on a mission, Tony at some gala in Washington with Bruce as his "date" and Steve had taken Thor to a baseball game (having discovered to his horror that the Aesir didn't play). Clint had finished up his training for the day and wandered into the kitchen in search of something the other Avengers hadn't already eaten. There he found Pietro moodily staring at the contents of the fridge and muttering darkly in Russian. Clint thought he caught a few words about pigs and supressed a laugh.

"Take out?" he enquired and actually did laugh when Pietro jumped nearly out of his skin. This time the muttering was definitely about "bloody creepy assassins" but it soon stopped when Clint picked up the menu for the pizza place. Pietro loved pizza. He'd apparently never had it before and he had loved it from the moment he'd first tried it with an obsessive passion. Clint thought it was kinda cute, actually. With his enhanced metabolism, Pietro needed a staggering amount of calories just to function and the sheer quantity of pizza he could consume gave even Thor pause. Bearing this in mind, Clint ordered a massive amount of food (for collection, since it was so much quicker for Pietro to just go and fetch it) and went to choose a film for them.

By the time the film ended, the lounge was littered with empty pizza boxes and the Sokovian was curled up against Clint's side like a contented cat. He was practically purring as the archer stroked his hair and the pizza had put him in a very good mood. He started to run his fingers up the inside seam of Clint's jeans, nuzzling into his neck at the same time and humming contentedly. Amused, Clint pulled away slightly so that they were facing each other on the sofa and took Pietro's hands in his, partly because he wanted to hold the younger man's hands but also because that way he would be able to actually focus on the conversation.

"We should definitely talk, kid." he said, trying to keep his voice warm but still seeing a flicker of disappointment and hurt across Pietro's features. "I really like you. And I think you like me too. And I think you were really really into the idea of me domming you last time but I want us to talk about limits and stuff first so we're on the same page."

The speedster looked a lot happier now but still confused, as if he was only half sure what Clint was talking about. "I am not sure what this 'domming' is, I do not know that word. And I do not know what my limits are, I have never found a man who will push them. What do you want to discuss, old man?" The kid's voice was calm but puzzled and that made Clint feel better, at least this time he would know that Pietro wasn't half insensible with desire which would make the whole conversation much easier.

"OK. So 'domming' is dominating... Being in charge, maybe tying the other person up or making them do stuff during sex. This would be 'the hitting things' that you mentioned before. But it has to be done safely and with your consent which is why I want to know your limits." Clint said, "Limits are things you don't enjoy or don't want to do and I won't be pushing them at all. If you tell me something is a limit then I won't do it, ever. We should probably have a safe word too, actually." When he finished, he looked at Pietro and realised that the man was looking at him in complete confusion.

"You want me to tell you not to do things? Before, nobody has asked me what they can do, a good boy will do whatever his владелец wishes, they say. But if I do not want this, I can say no?" He looked grateful in a way that really really pissed the archer off, this was basic human fucking decency and the idea of people abusing his boy like that made his hand itch for his bow. Another time he was going to have to go and have a 'chat' with these men but for now he wanted to focus on Pietro. He forced his anger down, not wanting to freak the kid out any further, and pulled the younger man into a tight hug.

"Yeah, kid, you can say no. Anything you say you don't want is fine, I won't do it ever. And I won't be mad at you for telling me. Have you ever used a safeword before?" When Pietro shook his head, Clint took a deep breath to steady himself, not trusting himself to speak right away, before continuing, "A safeword is something we can both use to stop a scene if we don't like something. I think we should stick with traffic lights for now: green for everything's good and keep going, yellow to pause and talk about something and red to stop everything immediately. If you say red then absolutely everything stops, I won't be angry and I will -always- stop if you use it, no matter what. If you just want to check in and maybe change something a bit then you can say yellow. It's kinda like time out, I guess." Pietro looked as if all the new information was making his head spin. 

"I can tell you to stop? Even though you are владелец?" He looked for confirmation from Clint and the older man's heart broke at the pathetically grateful look he received when he nodded. "I will tell you the things that are not good for me but it is hard, I want to please you and if I say no then maybe you will not be wanting me any more."

"Jesus Christ, kid." Clint composed his face before Pietro saw just how pissed off he was right now. "I will still want you, whatever you say no to. I'm not a fucking rapist, I don't want to do anything that you don't want me to."

Pietro looked at him, hard and searching, looking for the lie and when he didn't find one he buried his face in Clint's shoulder. His voice came out slightly muffled but it was still audible, "I do not like to be shouted at or told I am bad. It makes me think of Strucker when there is shouting. I do not like to be left. Before, a man tied my feet and then left me for many hours and then I was afraid. And I do not like there to be... mess. I like hitting though, if it is because you want me not because you are angry. Also ropes, I like to be tied, just not abandoned."

Clint smiled and stroked Pietro's back, "Well done, baby, that was really great. I promise I won't do any of the things you don't like. You've been such a good boy, telling me what you need." The praise made Pietro hum with pleasure and Clint took the chance on using two fingers to gently tip the speedster's chin up to kiss his full, pink lips. The younger man quickly deepened the kiss, opening his mouth slightly and running his tongue across Clint's lower lip invitingly. The firm runner's body twisted until Pietro was practically sitting in the archer's lap and he wound his arms around Clint's neck, pulling him close.

They sat like that for some time, lazily exploring each other's mouths, Pietro perched on Clint's thighs whilst the older man stroked his back and shoulders soothingly. Eventually, Clint pulled away, shushing the quiet noise of protest that it caused, and looked into the bright blue eyes of the young man. "I'd kinda like to take this to my bedroom, but only if you're comfortable with that?" he said, his voice sounding husky to his own ears. "I've got a few toys and some rope in there too but we could save that for another day, if you'd rather?"

"This sounds good. I would like that... Sir." The kid said with a cocky smile. Clint chuckled and then lifted Pietro off of his lap so that he could grab his hand and lead him upstairs to his bedroom.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two boys finally get that scene they've been building up to for ages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally got to write the BDSM that's been in my head for ages. It's not particularly intense and there's a lot of comfort and schmoop involved as well.

The door locked with a soft, metallic sound. Clint led his boy over to the bed, pushing him gently by the shoulder until he was lying on top of the covers and then taking hold of his wrists in one hand to pin them over his head. The archer's hands were strong and Pietro's experimental wriggling got him nowhere, a fact which made the younger man hiss through his teeth and caused his pupils to expand even further, chasing away the icy blue completely. Clint laughed and dipped his head to nip at the pale skin of Pietro's neck, his teeth leaving soft indentations which he caressed with his lips. 

Pausing his ministrations, Clint looked up and caught the speedster's eye, "Some rules for tonight, baby: 1) you don't cum unless I say you can. 2) you follow orders without question unless you need to use your safewords. 3) you can't use your speed at all unless I tell you to. Can you be a good boy for me and follow those?"

"Mmmhmm... yes Sir, I can do this."

"Good. Such a good boy for me, baby. I want you to take your clothes off and then get back on the bed. Can you keep your hands up like that or should I get some rope?" The kid flushed and moaned aloud at the suggestion of using the rope so Clint laughed and said, "Got it, rope it is than."

While Pietro removed his clothes at normal speed, giving Clint plenty of time to admire the view, the spy rummaged in a drawer and pulled out a length of red silk rope as well as a blindfold and a few other toys which he put aside for later. He watched as Pietro lay back down on the bed and raked his eyes over the kit which Clint had laid out, eyes wide and breathing hitched as he did so. Crossing the room, Clint straddled the Sokovian's narrow hips and began to efficiently wrap the rope around his wrists and the headboard, making sure that they weren't too tight and feeling his boy's cock jump with excitement under him.

His work finished, Hawkeye sat back a little to admire his handiwork. The rope was tied in an intricate pattern which allowed him to undo it from the bed without releasing Pietro's wrists and the man in question was gazing up at him with wide, feverish eyes. He took a moment to take in the rest of the scene and then held up the blindfold. "I'm gonna put this on you, baby. You're gonna be a really good boy for me and lie completely still."

"Yes, Sir. I can be a good boy for you. Please, Sir..." the speedster's words were half gasps, coming out between heavy pants of arousal. He lifted his head slightly to allow Clint to slide the blindfold over his messy two-tone hair and then sank back onto the pillow with a quiet moan. Clint shifted himself off so that he was kneeling by Pietro's side and ran a bow-callused hand down the smooth skin of his chest and abs. The kid looked so beautiful, tied up and spread out with the firm muscles of his arms standing out where he was pulling against the rope slightly. Clint told him so, telling him what a good boy he was being and watching the praise make the kid's cock twitch and leak.

He began by feathering light kisses all the way down the pale body, making sure to pay extra attention to Pietro's nipples and enjoying the high whine that he got in return. Every so often he paused in his exploration to suck a livid red mark into his boy's skin or to scrape his nails over the smooth flesh. By the time he reached Pietro's groin, the speedster was panting and writhing on the bed as he tried to angle his hips so that his rock hard cock was closer to Clint's mouth. Laughing at the obvious hint, the archer carefully avoided the area and went straight to Pietro's inner thighs, biting into the sensitive flesh hard and making his boy buck up from the bed and howl.

"You think I'm gonna suck you off, baby? You haven't done anything to earn that, yet." his voice was stern but there was a hint of his usual lightness to it, "If you want to cum, baby, then you're going to have to do something for me first."

"Please, владелец, please. Whatever you want, пожалуйста." the begging went straight to Clint's dick and he grinned wolfishly. He unzipped his trousers and pulled out his own aching member, positioning his body so that the tip just brushed against Pietro's wet, red lips and smeared a shiny trail of pre-cum over them. A pointed pink tongue flashed out and gingerly lapped at the head of his cock, tasting the salty fluid and toying with the slit for a moment until his boy groaned and lifted his head off the pillows to take as much of Clint in his mouth as he could with the awkward angle. What he couldn't achieve with depth, he made up for with enthusiasm, hollowing his cheeks and moaning wantonly as Clint wrapped a hand around the base of his cock and started to jerk himself off with firm, sure strokes.

"That's right, gonna cum in that pretty mouth of yours, baby. Such a good boy for me... Fuck that feels good." The praise made Pietro redouble his efforts, swirling his tongue and sucking like his life depended on it. Clint could feel himself getting close and at the last possible moment he pulled out of the delicious, wet heat of his boy's mouth, delighted when the moan of loss opened the speedster's lips wide and was quickly cut short as Clint shot his load with a groan that had him bracing himself against the wall with one hand. Pietro swallowed greedily and licked the spilt drops from his lips. 

Climbing off the bed, Clint gently undid the portion of the rope that secured Pietro's hands to the headboard and used it to pull his boy into a sitting position. The blindfold was still tightly secured over Pietro's eyes and when he removed it the piercing blue eyes met his, pupils blown and shining with desire. "Thank you, Sir." came a quiet voice, "can your boy have a reward for good behaviour now, Sir?"

Clint put his arms around the slim, toned body and pulled him close, stroking the messy blonde hair. Pietro melted against him and murmured happily at the attention. Clint considered for a moment before replying, "Since you were such a good boy for me, I'll let you choose the toy. How does that sound?" Immediately, Pietro nodded and indicated the cane which Clint had left propped on the night stand. It was smooth and polished, not particularly thick but not thin enough to cut, either. The grip was wrapped with a soft, purple leather and fit comfortably into the archer's hand. He gave it an experimental swish and his boy's eyes widened, breathing heavily. "On your hands and knees then, baby. I want to see that pretty arse up nice and high."

Once the speedster was in position, Clint moved around behind him and caressed the soft, pale skin with one hand. Gently, he rested the wood against the centre of Pietro's arse, lining up where he wanted to aim, and chuckled darkly as the boy squirmed and arched his back further. At first, he kept the blows light and quick, warming the skin until it glowed a rosy pink and Pietro was sweating and moaning with each one that landed. "Сильнее... Harder... Please, Sir. I will be so good for you."

"If you insist, baby, since you asked so nicely." the older man growled. The next blow was harder and made the kid cry out and jerk forwards, a raised welt as appearing a second later across both buttocks. The second swipe landed just below the first with a third following shortly after and landing on the crease between Pietro's arse and thighs. Each time the cane landed, his boy made the most delicious sound, sending a coil of heat straight down Clint's spine. Each jerk forwards made the Sokovian's cock bounce against his stomach, the purple head leaking pre-cum into the sheets, and the movement made him groan again. 

Putting the cane down carefully on the bed, Clint reached out and caressed the marks, "Such a good boy for me, making such good sounds for me. You'd do anything to cum, wouldn't you, baby?" Pietro nodded, whimpering slightly as the calluses on the archer's hands dragged over the welts on his behind. "I'll give you a choice then, three more hits with the cane and then I'll jerk you off or you can have six and I'll fuck you. Up to you, beautiful."

"Fuck... Please, Sir. Please. I need you to fuck me... Six and I will make good sounds... Бог, please..."

Picking up the cane, the older man grinned, "I was hoping you'd say that. Put your arse up a bit more, baby." When Pietro complied, he swung the cane three times in quick succession, enjoying the whistle it made as it cut through the air and the smack as it connected with the back of his boy's thighs. The kid whined and panted under the onslaught, babbling in a mixture of Russian and English as his dick wept clear fluid that spilled onto the bedding.

"Three more, yes? And then you will fuck me, Sir?" 

"That's right," Clint stroked his palm down the middle of Pitero's back and then reached up to grab a handful of tousled blonde hair, yanking the man's head back so that he could look into his eyes, "you're being such a good boy for me, baby. So proud of you." The speedster moaned and gazed up at him with a mixture of adoration and unrestrained lust, chest heaving. Clint released his grip and took a step back, carefully lining up the cane with one of the unmarked spaces in between his other strikes. He was feeling cautious now, not wanting to send his boy into a nasty drop, and so his last three hits with the toy were lighter and calculated to sting but not leave a deep burn.

When they were over, he gathered Pietro into his arms and pressed the shaking, sweat-slicked body to his chest. The boy was whimpering and Clint kissed his forehead softly, then pressed his lips against the trembling mouth. The kiss was tender and the Sokovian melted into it like warm chocolate.

"Such a good boy, baby. How you doing?" 

"Good, Sir. Green. Please, I need you." 

"Ok, beautiful. I'm going to tie your hands back to the bed and then I'll take care of you." the archer promised. He made short work of the rope and then took the bottle of lube from the side table, uncapping it and spreading the thick liquid over his fingers. Deftly, he outlined the tight pucker of Pietro's hole with a fingertip and gently eased one finger through the ring of muscle. His boy squirmed at the intrusion and then started to shift his hips, trying to gain some kind of friction on his aching cock as Clint fucked him slowly with one finger. Moving his body out of the way, the older man laughed indulgently, "Not yet, gorgeous. Don't worry... gonna open you up first and then I said I'd take care of you." Pietro whined but it quickly became a gasp as a second finger pushing inside of him and the archer started to scissor them, stretching his entrance and then brushing his prostate. The slight pressure on the sensitive bundle of nerves made the man cry a string of Russian swear words and arch into the contact.

"Please... Am ready... Бог."

Clint took his time, rolling on the condom carefully and making sure that every inch of his cock was coated in the lube and that there was plenty in and around his boy's entrance before he lined himself up and pressed the thick head of his member into the warmth of Pietro's body. With little warning, he thrust forwards until his balls were pressed against the firm arse of his lover and then stilled, giving the younger man time to adjust to his girth. While he waited, he dipped his head and began to toy with one of Pietro's nipples again, earning a shout and a breathy moan that made his hips stutter. The speedster arched his back off the bed, impaling himself further on Clint's dick, and clenched his fingers around the ropes binding him to the bed. Clint chuckled and rolled the sensitive nub with his tongue, nipping lightly with his teeth as he pulled out so that only the head of his cock was inside his boy. 

"Fuck, baby. You feel so good around my dick... So fucking tight." He thrust forwards, hard, making Pietro's body jerk up the bed, "you're such a good boy for me. I could just keep you tied here all night... Fuck your greedy hole and fill you up with my cum over and over again. You'd love that, wouldn't you, being mine to use whenever I wanted." He was thrusting in earnest now, angling his hips to hit Pietro's sweet spot every time and holding the kid's hips to keep him in place. The younger man looked absolutely wrecked, head thrown back with his eyes tight shut and his mouth hanging open in a silent scream. The toned flesh of his chest and stomach was littered with dark bruises and bite makes and his cock was so hard it looked painful, purple at the head with a thick vein standing out along the underside. Clint wrapped his fingers around the shaft and stroked it in time with the brutal pace he was setting, listening as Pietro keened and wailed under the onslaught of pleasure.

Just as Clint felt himself nearing the edge, his boy tensed under him and came hard across his stomach. It lasted a long time, thick ropes of cum painting his muscled torso whilst his muscles clenched and spasmed, tipping Clint over the edge of the cliff and milking his cock until he was shuddering and gasping. They lay for a few moments to catch their brash and then Clint eased himself out and quickly untied the ropes, freeing Pietro's hand. Immediately, the kid threw his arms around the older man and buried his face in Clint's chest, breathing hard and clenching his fingers against the tight muscles of the agent's back. Clint pulled him closer and stroked down the length of his spine, petting the messy white and black hair that was soaked in sweat and making gentle noises. He dragged a blanket over the two of them and wrapped it around Pietro, laying them both down on the bed so that the kid's head was pillowed on his chest, hands smoothing the skin of his back all the while.

"It's alright, baby, I'm here. You did so well for me... I'm not going anywhere." he soothed. His reply was a small sound of contentment before they both drifted into a peaceful and exhausted sleep.


End file.
